We Remember
by Captain Kaycee
Summary: Arthur gets a call from Alfred on the day that the world watched the burning of New York City. One-shot. Warnings: 9/11 Fic, Character Death


_A/N: **I took actual events that happened on this day and placed it into a fanfiction to express both the horror and depression of 9/11. THIS IS NOT FOR HUMOUR OR MAKING FUN OF THE EVENTS. **_

__  
><em>This was to honour the lives that were lost on that tragic day in September of 2001.<em>

_And yes, I know that I'm 2 months late, but lately I've been in a down mood because I keep seeing stuff on 9/11 even after the 10 year anniversary. I even knew a few people who had lost somebody in it... _

_Thank you Espeonsilverfire2 and Cloudsong on ChickenSmoothie for revising and editing the story. You guys are my saviours~ 3_

_**Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya **_

It was not a day that the world was expecting.

In fact, it had been a normal day for everyone. In cities around the world, people went about their daily lives, working in buildings that reached the clouds. People around the world were either going to work or getting home to see their family, which was just another normal day for humanity.

But in America, it was going to be one of the most devastating moments in history.

Arthur sat in his living room with a cup of tea in his hand, watching something on the TV that he wasn't really paying attention to. Instead, he was concentrating on drinking his tea while he thought of the day. It had been boring; he had gone to work and helped out several members of Parliament in their normal discussions before he returned home for the rest of the day.

Arthur had not wanted to stay at work the entire day, since the night before he had stayed up talking to Alfred in the United States. The American had ranted to him about how excited he was to visit the United Kingdom in a few weeks. His boss in the World Trade Center had finally allowed Alfred to take one week of vacation at the end of September, as he had continued to work endlessly in his cubicle on the 76th floor of the South Tower.

Arthur, drowned in his thoughts, went to take another sip of his tea only to realize that he had drunk the entire cup. He looked down with a disappointed look on his face, tipping the teacup upside down as if to show that it was empty.

"Bugger," he sighed, standing up from his leather chair and heading into the kitchen. He was still in his formal suit from work a couple of hours ago, but from the strained look on his face he was in no desire to change.

He poured some more water in a kettle to let it heat up for a little bit, while leaning against the counter and pinching the bridge of his nose. His mind was whirling with ideas that he and Alfred needed to see when he visited his home. The American had never travelled to a foreign country, let alone England.

The Englishman looked down at his watch, checking the time frequently to see how long the tea had been sitting. It was just a little after 2 o'clock in the afternoon, the time that Alfred usually got into work in the morning in the United States.

Suddenly he began to hear a buzz on the kitchen counter, followed by a bleeping noise. Arthur turned around to notice that his phone was going off like crazy. There was a single word written across the small screen, indicating the one person that Arthur continued to think about.

Alfred.

Immediately, Arthur picked up the phone and looked down at the large block in his hand, holding it up to his ear. He could hear someone coughing on the other line like crazy, as well as people screaming and cursing.

"Alfred? Is that you?" Arthur asked through the phone, his stomach feeling like it was going to do a complete flip from hearing the background noises through the phone.

"A-Arthur! Oh thank god I finally reached you! Listen… I think a plane crashed into my building… and there's smoke everywhere…" Alfred panted through the phone, sounding as if he was going to cough out his lungs.

Arthur's heart felt like it had stopped in the seconds that he listened to Alfred's voice. The words "a plane crashed into my building" continued to replay in his head like a broken record, and his free hand went up to his mouth. He could hear Arthur yelling to other people on the phone, telling them that they needed to find the stairs as quickly as possible.

"This way!" Alfred yelled to somebody on the line, and a fumbling noise sounded through the phone as well as a crash that sounded like a door.

In all of Arthur's panic, his mind caught a few words from the TV in the other room, sounding like a live broadcast. He caught the words "a plane has crashed into the World Trade Center in New York" from the TV. Arthur immediately ran into the other room, all thoughts of the tea he was making vanished.

His eyes widened at the image that came from the screen. He could see a pair of buildings, two of the largest buildings in New York, with a giant cloud of smoke engulfing them. He noticed the fires coming from some of the floors near the top, and as the camera zoomed in closer he could see people jumping to their deaths to the streets below.

Arthur suddenly heard Alfred's voice through the line again, this time directing people by names as he continued down what sounded like another flight of stairs. Suddenly, the sound of running stopped, and the screaming of people disappeared for a moment. He could still hear Alfred's breathing, however, making Arthur's despair disappear for a second or two.

"Arthur... those people are going to get out… I know they will…" he breathed into the phone, a long sigh escaping his lips. Arthur heard what sounded like his back sliding against the wall, ending with a loud 'thud' on the floor.

A few coughs escaped Alfred's mouth, making Arthur cringe with each one. He sounded in pain, like something was lodged into his throat.

"I'm not going to… get out of this… am I?" Alfred whispered suddenly through the phone. He sounded distant, as if he wasn't truly himself anymore. He didn't sound like the Alfred that Arthur knew. He didn't sound cheerful, carefree, or even amusing. No, this Alfred was the calm side of him, no longer being the goofy teenager that Arthur once knew.

"N-No… you're going to be alright… you're going to be just fine," Arthur soothed through the phone, trying his best to keep both himself and Alfred calm.

"The smoke is horrible up here… and I can't get out…" Alfred coughed. Arthur could hear him begin to sob, and he could only imagine the young man's face with tears running down it.

"A-Alfred! You just stay on the phone, you hear me! The firemen are going to come up and get you, I promise! Just stay on the line with me... stay calm... everything's going to be alright…" Arthur assured him, trying his best to keep himself from crying.

In the back of his mind, he knew that the attack was not something accidental. He had seen the other plane crash into the tower adjacent to Alfred's, and heard several news reporters speaking of a possible terrorist attack.

"I'm so scared Arthur… I don't want to die… I'm not ready to. Oh god, I'm going to die aren't I? I had been saving those people downstairs from the smoke… but now I'm going to die…"

"No! You're not going to die, Alfred! You're going to be fine!" Arthur snapped at him, trying to keep himself from losing the battle with the rivers that were invading his eyes.

"I'm too high up though, Arthur… the firemen aren't going to get to me… oh god… I'm sorry Arthur… I'm sorry that I won't be able to see England… I'm sorry that I won't be able to see you…" Alfred cried, while his breathing was ragged from the smoke and his despair.

"Don't say that, you git! The firemen will find you!" Arthur yelled, feeling a single tear escape the prison of his eyes. He couldn't let Alfred freak out, not when he continued to see the smoke from the tower in his TV.

Alfred cried through the phone, and from the cursing from under his breath Arthur knew that he was trying his best not to cry. He had always told Arthur that he was the hero, and that heroes never cry because it shows their weakness. But it didn't matter to Arthur one bit. He wished that he could place Alfred in his arms to keep him from feeling so alone in the tower, despite the thousands of people that were also inside of the burning buildings.

"Thank you… Arthur… thank you for picking up the phone… I don't know what I would have done if you weren't home for all of this…" Alfred whispered into the phone. His crying had died down, although his uneven breathing was still heard through the line.

Alfred sniffed his nose on the phone, and Arthur could hear him try to keep in a cough. "A-Arthur…? I just want you to know… that I love you. I wish that I could have-"

Suddenly, there was a sound of crashing from the other line, before it suddenly was cut off and disappeared completely. "No! Alfred!" he yelled through the phone, glancing up towards the TV only to see his worst nightmare. _Don't go…_

The entire building was falling, each floor crashing down one after another. Smoke and debris fell from the sky onto the streets below, and the entire world was in a complete silence. Arthur stood with the phone still to his ear, staring at the television with tears burning behind his eyes. He knew that Alfred had been in the tower. He had been in the tower that collapsed on live television, and Arthur had been the one to hear his last words.

Arthur began to feel hot tears slide down his cheeks, his eyes still glued to the screen. The image of the tower falling on itself replayed over and over in his head, as well as the last words of the man he had been so excited to see. 'I wish that I could have-'

_Could have what…?_ Arthur asked himself in his head as he dropped his phone and crumbled onto the floor in front of the TV screen. His face was in his hands as he sobbed, wishing desperately that he could hear that cheerful, childlike voice that he heard from Alfred a few seconds ago.

_I loved you too…_ Arthur screamed in his mind. He had wanted to tell him that he loved him too, but as the sound of crashing came back to him, he knew that he would never have the chance. Arthur looked up at the screen one last time before drowning his sorrows into his hands that covered his face. He stayed on the ground sitting on his knees for the rest of the day, hoping that he would be able to know what Alfred was going to say before the tower collapsed.

'I wish that I could have been there with you.'


End file.
